


Flowers in the Sun

by MOBAge_Hell



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 05:29:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15332838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MOBAge_Hell/pseuds/MOBAge_Hell
Summary: "Are you going to stare all day?" This time Kiran turned her head towards the goddess and she can't help but grin at the irony. She can hardly fault the outsider for not knowing the customs of a land (or possibly even a world) she had only lived in for months at most. But to stare her straight in the face, in her temple with her blessing branded on her forehead, and demand answers.But Sharena was never as unforgiving as her brother(Or, Sharena makes a friend)





	Flowers in the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> I also like to call it 'how much flower language can i shove in one fic without making the fic unreadable'
> 
> Sorry if it reads a tad self-insert-y I'm just really gay for Sharena _(:3 」∠)_

Her brother found her first.

Animals were always more excitable. Their shorter life spans meant everything was new and interesting. The trees would claim that someone had fallen out of the sky just yesterday for entities that old centuries would pass in the blink of an eye. She wouldn’t have found out at all had some of them not complained of an animal crashing through their branches in its fall.

A cursory glance towards her was all the greeting Sharena was going to get from her brother. A young woman lay before him, skin marred with cuts and breathing hollow. Such a large hiccup in space and time was rare even for the Gods that had watched over the land since its creation. But affairs regarding the continuum were not their business.

There were already earth spirits dwelling nearby, still as the shadows they hid under. Birds of prey that had gathered for the potential feast backed off when Sharena approached the body. She ignored the elongated sigh from her sibling as she kneeled down, sweeping blood matted hair off of the girl's face.

"Don't," Alfonse's voice sliced straight through the silence, spooking some of the nearby wildlife and causing her to flinch. "Child from the sky or not, you know exactly what happened the last time you saved a human."

'We' Sharena wants to add but bites her lip instead. The girl won't last much longer without any aid. But, the scars of loss were too fresh, their experiences a lesson of what happens when the Gods meddled in human affairs.

Still, she lingers, listens to the unsteady rhythm the girl's chest creates. It's only a few moments before she leans over, placing her lips upon the girl's forehead. Pink strokes bloom where their skin touches, scattering here and there on a pale canvas before settling into shape.

"What?" Sharena immediately questioned the disapproving gaze her brother gave her, "If someone finds her it's more likely they'll help her. That's it."

Alfonse's stare did not soften, but the lack of harsh words before he left still surprised her. Sharena gave the girl one more glance before standing back up to meet the beady gaze of the birds around them. She's tempted to scare them off but she knows the little tattletales will tell her brother in an instant. If it was someone else, though. . .

There was a road nearby, a dirt path beaten by traders and travelers for so long that nature no longer bothered trying to reclaim it. Interfering directly would only make an assortment of entities angry, but conveniently pointing someone in the right direction? She could at least get out of an hour-long lecture from Alfonse that way.

\---

Temples were never a place she went out of her way to visit, even her own. She wasn't exactly fond of stuffy old buildings with equally stuffy priests. But they at least provided sanctuary from Alfonse's nagging, if only for an hour or so. 

(If she didn't like temples, he hated them. They were always far too cramped to be able to fly freely. Tree branches would give way, structures of stone would not.)

Sharena hasn’t realized she was holding her breath until she stepped into an atrium, into the soothing warmth that set the garden alight with a golden hue. Kneeling next a planter half-full of flowers is someone in robes white enough to give off their own light.

The gardens are unimpressive and almost a little insulting, but she stayed anyway. She let the daylight pervade the woven fibers of her clothes, its warmth bleeding through to take shelter in her skin while she sat next to the robed figure whose hands are tugging at some distant part of her memory.

"Do you need something?" Although the words catch her off guard, Sharena doesn't show it. To be able to see her, to be able to address her so casually, is something she hadn't experienced since that boy had wormed his way into the siblings' hearts. 'He's gone' she has to remind herself before the dredge of memories tries to drag her down with them.

The girl took her lack of response as its own answer, humming thoughtfully before returning her full attention to drawing on the dirt. 

"That doesn't work unless you have magic." The goddess idly commented, watching her finger pause in the middle of the last character for 'life' right under a cluster of chervil flowers.

"I know" She agreed but finishes the character anyways. Its then she notices the lingering earth spirit underneath the nearby tomato stalks. Usually, such a being avoided the presence of even its kin, but this one instead moved directly towards the girl. It redrew the last character several times, using her finger as a brush on a dirt canvas before it seemed to be satisfied.

Sharena felt a little jealous that a mortal could have such a relationship with spirits. She's tried before, but they rightly avoid people as powerful as her and even each other. To have one confident enough to not only approach but to also teach was. . .Well, Sharena couldn't claim to have seen it before at the very least.

"Are you going to stare all day?" This time Kiran turned her head towards the goddess and she can't help but grin at the irony. She can hardly fault the outsider for not knowing the customs of a land (or possibly even a world) she had only lived in for months at most. But to stare her straight in the face, in her temple with her blessing branded on her forehead, and demand answers.

But Sharena was never as unforgiving as her brother

"Kiran!" Any other question the girl was going to ask failed to pass her lips when her name is called. There is only one more glance back at the goddess before she stood up and hurried away.

Slowly she retraced the word etched on the earth, ignoring the faded violet saffrons that bloomed as her finger passed.

\---

Sharena expects the flowers to be gone the next time she visits. She doesn't expect them to have been relocated, spread among the other flowers that called the atrium planters their home.

She finds Kiran at a small fountain nestled between peach trees. It's trickling is a soft accompaniment to the hushed rustle of leaves and the far-off fervent prayers (as if their goddess was listening to them and not attempting to socialize with one of their priestesses).

Kiran hummed when she notices Sharena, again facing away as she spoke. "If you're going to stand there, could you please help me?"

'She's far more polite than Alfonse' is all she thought while she helped pour water over Kiran's hands. She vaguely remembered this mortal practice, that washing hands of impurity was important before praying to the gods. Sharena had never even paid attention to the dirtiness of someone's hands when they prayed, but she knows her brother does. Those that pray to him, though, have committed far too many atrocities to clean their hands with water alone.

"Why not just wash your hands inside the fountain?" Sharena asked the question the second it enters her mind, tilting her head when Kiran finally faced her. The girl doesn't answer but rather peeked back at the fountain and the half-formed water spirit now occupying it. Translucent eyes glare at the goddess from just above the water line, the glare of the sun setting them aflame. She had once seen his kind call a downpour from the heavens to scare away those that encroached in their space and sink those that didn't flee. 

Maybe if he wasn't alone. Maybe if he had more than a whole three cubic feet of water to call his own. The sprite dissipated as soon as it saw her sheepish grin. All bark and no bite, but to not instantly flee was impressive on its own. She's still bitter, though, and asked herself why she thought there would be a different outcome.

“They really like you, huh?” It took Kiran a moment of glancing between her and the now unoccupied fountain before she understood what the goddess is talking about

“You say it like it's weird.” The girl frowned. Before Sharena can tell her that yes, it really was weird, Kiran twined her fingers with her own and lifted both hands up.

First Sharena thinks it a trick of the light. She's never gotten spirits to go anywhere near her. But here, air spirits pass by here and there, occasionally stealing what water remains from off of the surface of Kiran’s skin and fleeing with their spoils. She could not completely contain a sense of childish glee when one brushes past her limb while escaping from the vicinity of Kiran’s.

When she turned back, the priestess's face had copied the same hue of the fruit in the trees above them. "You just have to let them come to you." Kiran finally stammered out as she lowered both their arms but still gripped her hand tightly.

Sharena’s hand remained warm for a while after, blessed by the touch of such precious things.

\--

Sharena tried to keep her visits to the temple scarce. There's nothing to punish her for what she does with her free time (except maybe her brother's disapproving stare), but she doesn't like slacking on her duties either. She is, after all, a product of the people she watches over, faith and prayer over centuries creating something almost tangible.

Still, the goddess liked to send flowers when her absences grow rather long. First waterfalls of glycine blooms and buds of pink rose, then honeysuckle flowers with their petals spread until their shape resembled lotuses. With the summer came small stalks of circaea and clusters of heliotropes.

Her brother doesn’t approach her until after she’s delivered branches of lilacs and primroses that bloomed the color of a young maiden’s cheeks. She’s surprised he hasn’t come to scold her sooner but isn’t shocked that her luck has finally run out.

“You shouldn’t be associating with humans that closely.” Straight to the point as always

“There’s nothing that says I can’t.” Sharena hummed in reply. Nothing but history books full of romances between humans and divinity that always ended in heartbreak. Nothing but her own grief that has only barely scarred over (Alfonse has the same wound, though his never healed quite right). There’s a thrill in the forbidden, though, and a particular smile that makes her forget everything else.

Alfonse chewed his lip, so she waited patiently. Her brother only ever lingered on his words when he hated them.

“Veronica’s forces are pushing closer.” 

Sharena frowned on reflex when she heard the name. A queen who preached of the Gods being undeserving while her country starved. But anger is a potent tool in the hands of humans, and what is bathed in flames cannot be brought back so easily.

It would explain why he'd been gone for extended periods of time. Why he would come back with the blood of sacrifices on his hands and the weight of human lives on his shoulders. The soldiers looked to him to guide them to victory, but a God can only delay fate’s course for so long.

It seemed fate was more than delighted to let their temples burn.

\--

“I'm sorry, but I belong to the Goddess of this temple.”

The words are not technically true. The Gods belonged to humans more than they ever belonged to the Gods. But those who bear a blessed brand are considered good luck to have in the family. And with the war dragging on, there are many men desperate for anything that would help them gain luck’s favor.

“I'm sorry, but I belong to the Goddess of this temple.” Kiran repeated. She's said it so many times now that she can keep an even voice despite any yelling or begging from the other party. But even from the other side of the atrium Sharena can see her hands crumple and pull the fabric of her robes. The goddess herself can't interfere directly, but those that tried to court the priestess usually tripped on a root or three on their way back home.

Kiran doesn't question her appearances anymore. Instead she sat on the bench with Sharena and laid her head in the goddess’ lap with a heavy sigh.

“Why is it so exhausting to not yell at people?” The priestess asked with a grumble. Sharena took a moment to comb her fingers through Kiran’s hair before she replied.

“Because they are people. But it is bad faith-”

“To turn people away, yeah yeah.” She waved her hand dismissively “All people have a story, all journeys are different than others.” Kiran’s eyes start to droop as Sharena continues to comb her hair “I just wish I had more time to myself. This place is too small to have any good hiding spots.”

“We could go somewhere.” The words are already out of her mouth before she realizes what she's saying. Kiran turned her head to look up at the goddess, confusion spreading across their face

“Where?”

“Anywhere I guess.” Sharena suddenly lit up “Oh, there's a place up north not to far from here! The meadows there are gorgeous!”

Silence. Sharena starts to regret everything.

“. . .You don't want to go.”

“I do!” Kiran sat up as she protested, scaring away an earth spirit that had started to draw close “I just. . .the temple has finally been getting enough in donations to feed everyone after they took me in and we almost have enough money saved up to start repairing the eastern hallway that is starting to collapse on itself and. . .I can't just abandon the people who saved me. Not so suddenly.”

“When would be ‘not sudden’?”

The priestess stewed in her own thoughts for a moment “After the foundations on the eastern hallway are replaced, at the very least.”

Repairs of that kind take months, if not years. Sharena is not sure if the temple will even be standing by then.

She grabbed Kiran’s hand, squeezed lightly, and put on the best smile she could muster

“I don't mind waiting.”

A God could only delay fate’s course for so long.

\--

The next time she saw her brother, he barely has the strength to stand.

Sharena sighed softly before she helped him walk to her domain. The fact that he is neither arguing he can walk on his own or apologizing for being a burden means he’s close to simply collapsing.

A God cannot die from mortal wounds, but Alfonse had the habit of avoiding asking for help as long as possible. The blood is already dried and flaking, but at least the cuts haven’t gotten infected. Not yet, anyways. They cannot take his life, but she knows her brother. She knows how he tends to pick and prod at his wounds until they fester and then believe that he deserved every moment of pain. If left alone, he’ll stew in his own misery until the end of time or when the exhaustion of a body trying to heal puts him to sleep, whatever came first.

Gently, she took off what armor she can before leading him into one of her springs. It's already turned muddy before she’s even close to scrubbing all the blood off, but a dark spot in her garden is a small sacrifice to help her brother out

Alfonse never particularly enjoyed war, but he could not turn away those that sought his help. But his blessing comes with a price for the God as he bears a portion of the wounds they receive in battle. 

There are several gaping holes in his chest where a sword or spear might have been plunged. There's deep cuts on his arms, nearly severing the tendons underneath. There are far more surface wounds, but they're small enough to scab over rather quickly

Still she cleans them, and wraps the deeper ones in yarrow and linen.

“I'm sorry.” He muttered after Sharena has guided him back out and cloaked him in wool to chase away the cold that has seeped into her brother’s bones.

She said nothing, but embraced him much like he would do when they were still young and inexperienced and the world was a scary place that demanded their perfection.

“. . .Your temple.”

Oh.

“It's just a dumb building.” Sharena whispered, squeezing him despite his injuries. “Your wellbeing is more important.”

She says that, but can still feel her emotional scars tearing back open as demons dance in the back of her head. Just like before they would laugh Just like Zacharias

She’ll cry when she’s alone. Right now, her brother needed the support more than she did.

\--

Even in the rain, there's still glowing embers hiding under the rubble where the water cannot reach. Scraps of charred fabric cling to the corners of sharper stone while vases and fountains lay shattered, their pieces so scattered that it would be impossible to figure which shards belonged to which body.

Sharena has expected the destruction. What she doesn't expect is a priestess robed in white kneeling in the middle of the ruins that used to be her home. But there she is, white robe almost ethereal in the storm.

After the goddess managed to get past the various stones that used to make a building, she noticed a small patch of dirt next to the priestess. Wild violets are common and rather easy to raise, but it appeared she was guarding the blooms that were as white as her clothes, using her body to shield them from the excessive downpour.

Sharena finally approached her, one careful step at a time, and kneeled next to her

“You know. . .” The goddess tried to find something to fill the silence “Those might survive the storm even if you stop shielding them.”

She saw the priestess’ eyes flutter open, face still stained with soot and dirt. She stared forward, and Sharena is scared she said something dumb

“I know.” She agreed quietly, letting the blossom in her hand go and watching its stem bounce two or three times “But I needed to make sure that you knew they were here.”

Sharena was still staring at the flowers before she noticed Kiran had moved closer. The contact is short, but the goddess’ lips suddenly feel like the frozen seas up north when they part.

“May I?” She inquired, and the priestess nodded. Another kiss, cupping Kiran’s face like a bloom to admire as the water continued to assault them.

“We could go somewhere.” Kiran suggested, their faces still touching

“Where?”

“I've heard there's a lovely meadow not far north of here.” She hummed, and both girls giggle quietly.

Kiran’s hand is cold, but Sharena squeezed it anyways as they left the ruins behind. 

When time finally ran its course, when stones crumbled to dust and nature reclaimed its spot, the entire field bloomed white violets.

**Author's Note:**

> I vaguely based Sharena and Alfonse off of Frigg and Freyja respectively
> 
> Style is highly inspired by antagonists
> 
> Thank you again to OrangeBlossoms for editing a half finished mess ;3;


End file.
